Of Storms and Swords
by Creejak
Summary: Years and years ago, sails painted the horizon. However, the bleak walls of stone and cold steel bars were still a cage. Pirates were hanged, never dreamed about in such romantic and adventurous ways.
1. In Sickness and Irritation

                      Hey all. I'll be your host for today, and you can call me Creejak. This would be my first story, but please, I enjoy constructive criticism, so don't hold back or feel compelled to 'be nice'.

*Sips French Vanilla coffee and looks at his watch*

Ah, a few moments left. As for the pg13 rating, chapters of this story will be a little more violent in terms of actions, words, est. You'll be warned before I tell you the story if there is anything that may be offensive, so don't worry.

A Taste Of What Is Going On: Ragetti and Pintel were captured like their comrades. Yet what happened after that was either never recorded or the records were lost. Or perhaps, verbal records were passed down.

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Chapter One: In Sickness And Irritation 

            "Children, ladies and gentlemen, please gather around and get comfortable. Yes, the party is going fine, but what it's lacking is a good tale, and ol' Jak is going to tell you one. Now, there-"

            "Misser Jak, whys your name spelted all funny like? I saw mommy write it down…"

                         "Because, it's a pirate name."

                         "A pirate name?"

                         "Yes, and if you're quiet, young 'uns, I'll tell you of a tale of two pirates. A _true_ story of two _real_ pirates whom long ago, lived and breathed, just like us."

                         "We'll be quiet!"

                         "There's a good group of kiddies. Now then, once, in the years of the seventeen hundreds… "

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            The bars to the cell were cold to the touch, and hurt when they compressed against the gangly pirate's body. Yet slipping through the bars seemed an excellent idea, at least it did at the time. However, now that he was stuck, it seemed to be a horrible escape plot. Especially when the threat of being caught was forever present, and knowing that death awaited you if you stayed put.

             "Hurry up, Ragetti!" a slightly short, and older pirates growled. His bald head gleamed humorously, yet the stringy hair that dangled at his head's side took away the humour, as it was grimy and filthy. The pirate was dressed in a grungy white shirt with numerous stains and rips within it that was left open to expose his chest, stomach and naval, a fancy cutlass belt with a silver buckle laid across his chest and girth, a few belts around his waist, and dark pants that were tucked into the tops of his boots. A dark grey vest that was almost hidden behind the rumples of his white shirt was also slightly visible.

             "I'm tryin', Pintel," Ragetti said, wincing his eyes awkwardly. He only had one eye, at that. His left eye, dulled slightly as though he had taken sick, used to shine with a sick innocence, and his right eye was replaced by a slightly to-large prosthetic. Under his false eye, his skin was red as though it had been splintered many times, and the bulging of the eye didn't' help it. Greasy light brown hair that was styled in a messy pudding bowl cut with bangs that dangled only just above his eyes seemed to fall in front of his striped line of vision. Ragetti wore a ragged blue jacket (perhaps at one time it was a royal blue, but it had faded to a rather dreary storm-grey more then blue) that went to the back of his thighs, yet one half of it's tail-end was stuffed hastily behind one of the two belts around his waist. A cutlass belt that was less fancy then Pintel's went across his chest and back in the opposite direction of his friend, and beneath his jacket, a ridiculously long-sleeved faded red shirt with a deep cut in the centre of the chest was worn, the sleeved rolled up a bit yet still showing out of his blue coat. His black cotton pants went to his knees, where stockings should have been yet only scarred, bare legs shoed. Buckled shoes ended his simple attire.

            At one point, each pirate had artillery enough to make a marksman jealous, yet it had been taken away upon his capture. All of their weapons had, the pirates that surrounded them in the damp, dank and largest cell Port Royale had to offer. Anxiously waiting freedom, some gave encouraging words to the ever so skinny and tall Ragetti, while others growled hasty threats at the lanky buccaneer. 

             "He's tryin' his hardest…Hurry up, Rug-head!" Pintel muttered darkly.

             "I can't, it hurts, the bars are to close together. It's the stupid ones tha' go across, they're to close together!"

            Groans of despair went up amongst the doomed prisoners. Indeed, Ragetti was right. The horizontal bars that crossed with the vertical bars made climbing through them impossible.

            Ragetti slithered backwards from the progress he had made, cursing quietly under his breath. With a sickening cough, he backed himself into a damp, musty corner and kicked the few bits of straw away from himself. Muttering apologies that were perhaps sincere, he curled his knees to his chest and leaned a bit forward, rocking back a forth.

                         "It's not y'er fault, Rags," Pintel sued his comrades nickname in hopes of lightening the usually optimistic Ragetti's mood, yet to no avail. The pirate merely sniffed and hid his face between his knees, stifling another cough.

                        Tilting his head to the side, Pintel made his way through the crowd within the cell, muttering "Gang-way, already, idiot!" and "Watch y'erself, dolt!" until he had arrived and sat down beside Ragetti. "You alright, mate?"

            Ragetti looked up, the dull gleam in his eye slightly alarming. In fact, now that Pintel could look closer, he noticed the paleness in the pirates skin, beneath the Caribbean tan. The lad also seemed to be breathing harder then usually, as though he was having troubles with the task.

            Ragetti nodded once, forcing a smile onto his cracked lips. Nodding his head slowly a few times to prove his point further, he curled up with his back to his friend and lay down, facing the wall. His back racked as though he was swallowing coughs or sobs.

             "No y'eh ain't."

             "I am to!" Ragetti more or less shouted out, causing a few heads to turn in surprise. The pirate hardly ever raised his voice, and never had shown anger to Pintel of all people. A few quiet yet well disguised trembles in his voice and the shivering of his body betrayed that he in fact, was not all right. A moment of silent passed between the two men, and finally Ragetti admitted, "I'm cold, s'all."

             "Y'er sick, ain't you? Really sick, eh…'S the bad thing about not bein' immortal anymore. We ain't used to feeling or eatin' or drinkin' or nothin'." 

            Heads turned once again at the mention of Ragetti being sick. Eyes flew wide and forms shuffled back as though the pirate had gone mad and would leap up and attack them all at no notice. Mutters of "Get 'im out of 'ere!" and other numerous concerned tones flew around.

            It was all interrupted by the sound of keys clinking together, boots tapping upon the stone steps leading down to the cells were the pirates were, water sloshing in it's pitcher and stale bread sliding across the platters they were handled carelessly.

           "Eh, any of you dead yet?" the words were said cruelly, the young man dressed in the traditional red coat and white breeches with black boots who had said the sneered. A man in a blue jacket, white pants and black boots preceded, a look of paranoia about his expressions. He was bending his tri-corn hat out of shape, gazing at the pirates as though they were plague-infested rats.

             "He's sick!" a pirate by the name of Scratch said, pointing wildly at Ragetti's submissive form, the pirate's black dreadlocks and hair falling all over the place as his colourful hat choose that exact moment to slid of his head. A few murmurs of agreement went out amongst the villains.

             "I am not!" Ragetti croaked out indignantly.

             "Ah, well, you'll all get sick and die sooner, I suppose," the soldier said cruelly, only to be hit upside the head by the nervous lieutenant. The bread and water was handed out accordingly and very stiffly, many of the fiends grumbling insults and rude words at the two men.

             "Now, bring forth the one who's sick," the lieutenant said, his eyes wide as though scared out of his wits, yet his tone commanding and voice loud. Pintel patted Ragetti on the back and helped his comrade get up, leading him slowly forward.

             "Come, come, we haven't got all day, lads."

            With foreboding movements, the two pirates moved quicker until they were looking directly through the bars of the cell.

             "Name, please," the man asked, and then as an afterthought, " Both of you."

             "Ragetti," Ragetti answered quietly. Being bolder, Pintel growled out his name with a hint of pride.

            The lieutenant pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from his sleeve and looked at it. For a moment, his eyes scanned the list before he nodded. He looked into the cell at the glaring pirates and sighed almost regretfully. 

             "This is the list with the dates of execution, and who's sentence will be carried out upon that hour." The man turned around and stuck the list between two boards of wood mounted upon the opposite wall, so all could see it and those who could read could read it.

             "Now then," he nodded to the redcoat beside him who nodded and fetched a riffle from the gun rack near the end of the walkway. He returned after loading it and aimed it inside the cell. A few of the pirates started, yet the officer merely took the keys from his belt, fitted the appropriate one into the lock and unlocked the cell. The door slid open a bit and he glared at Pintel and Ragetti.

             "You two are to exit into that cell," he said, and pointed to the cell a little ways down and across the hall. The two pirates obliged, pausing only to ask why.

             "You two are obviously near each other more so then others and if left ignored, others will be at risk. One of you is sick, and we will not tolerate other men who are to be hanged to be taken by disease when law should have its way."

            After being locked in their new cell, the larger group of pirates stared at the two isolated ones in disbelief, before murmurs escaped their mouths. Pintel cast Ragetti a haggled look, and the only response he received was a few horrible hacking coughs with gasps in between.

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            Now then, Pintel's name is pronounced Pin'tell and Ragetti's name is pronounced Rug'eht'ee. Just for those curious minds out there. **Winks**


	2. Of Getting Unstuck and Forgiving Comrade...

Chapter Two:

The moonlight glowed eerily through the barred windows, effusively lighting up the dark prison. The hallway was still relatively dark, the torches blown out long ago by the death of a candlewick. The only lights were of glowing eyes and moonlight.

There were no rotting skeletons in sight. The curse was lifted after all, and they could feel again, taste again and even drink again. Yet the surprise of the skeletons and their sudden disappearance was still odd for some of the pirates locked away.

Ragetti gazed at his outstretched hand, turning it a few angles and peering up at it with a half closed eye. The lack of bones, rotting flesh and tattered clothing was awkward for the simple man to say the least. 

The cold was unnatural for the Caribbean, yet the damp and unclean cells justified it to the very end. The lanky pirate turned upon his side and curled up, his knees to his chest, and buried his face betwixt his caps. Shivers racked his body and he felt goose bumps raise upon his skin. 

A week ago he wouldn't have experienced this. Instead, he would be a bloody skeleton, rotting away, with no sense of taste or touch. He still would be starving, yet it wouldn't be a worry. Now that he had to eat, his hunger was, in a sense, real. A few tears escaped the corners of his left eye, and he bit his bottom lip to choke the sob about to escape back down. The wooden eye that filled his right socket absorbed the moisture, as it always had done. 

After sniffing loudly, he hushed himself for a moment for fear of waking up another or making those who were still awake angry with him. Yet he failed to stifle the cough that tore up his throat and caused him to gasp between hacks. Wheezing a bit after his fit, he jolted and whirled around into a sitting position as a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Relax, mate, s'just me," Pintel quietly assured the pirate, who grinned slightly relieved, wiping the streaks of wetness on his left cheek with the back of hi jacket's sleeve. 

Pintel shook his head in a way that Ragetti couldn't decipher as pity or frustration, and got up. He strode over and stood upon the ledge of the back-wall in the cell. His hands gripped the bars in the window tightly and he looked back at Ragetti.

"Look."

Curiously, Ragetti got up and strode behind the older pirate, perching upon his toes to see through the window at gaze at the town. He was lucky enough to be tall enough to see without aid.

"I don't see nothin'," Ragetti answered innocently.

"No, on the water, not the town, idiot."

"Oh…" 

Ragetti strained his one eye to concentrate on the town of Port Royale. Lights from lanterns and candles were lit up and numerous buildings and estates. Some ships had candles on their decks lit up, and the moonlight stole away most of the left over darkness. Out in the harbour, a ship had been docked and was unloading.

The ship they came from was a Dutch Flute, and its sails were being furled. The distant shouts of the captain's voice was only distinguishable, as he seemed to be yelling orders to direct the cargo going on and off.

"They dropin' provisions t'er the fort?" Ragetti asked, wheezing slightly and backing up a few paces as he started coughing again. Pintel grunted in response that didn't specify a sure answer.

Both of them looked back at the sound of metal clinking upon metal. The mangy hound with keys usually in it's mouth was pushing something along the ground with his nose, and it was being continuously being shoved into the horizontal strip of metal bar on their cell.

Pintel blinked and shared a quizzical look with his comrade, who shrugged and approached the beast. The dog looked up and bared its teeth threateningly. It proceeded to pick whatever was on the ground up between its teeth. It was the set of keys to the cells.

Both pirates tensed visibly. Pintel hissed at Ragetti to grab them. The pirate looked back at the other and tilted his head to the side. Turning his gaze to the canine, Ragetti smiled and made a clicking sound with his teeth, holding his hand out as though there was something in it.

"Here boy, come on. There's a good doggy. Come on, see wot ol' Rags has…"

The dog tilted its own head and proceeded to wag its tail foolishly, trying to stick its head through the bars. After ten long minutes of coaxing and trying, the dog managed to get its skull between a square of bars.

And then it realized it was stuck. In a moment of panic, the dog dropped the keys from its grip and started to whimper, growl and moan in despair, trying desperately to pull its head back from where it was stuck.

Ragetti trotted forward, grabbed up the keys and jingled them playfully at Pintel, who growled muttered something offensive under his breath. The pirate merely grinned at his friend and inserted a key in the lock.

A few minutes later and a few more keys and turns, the dog was still stuck, but the lock was unlocked.

"Quietly now, Ragetti," Pintel cautioned, as the door was swung slowly open, creaking every inch of the way.

"What are you doing?!" a demand came from the cell across theirs, where a few pirates were awake. A pirate by the name of Twigg, who looked very stressed and almost sorrowed as though he had lost somebody dear to him, growled out at them, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"We're escapin', wot's it look like?" Ragetti said childishly, taking the keys out of the lock as he and Pintel slipped out of their cage. He closed the door absently with a slightly loud clang and winced, tucking his neck down a bit.

"Going to give me the keys so we can get out?" Twigg asked, almost carefully as though scared of the answer.

Pintel snorted, his eyes flickering dangerously as he gnashed his teeth together in a horrible sneer. "After all you did to me an' Rags?"

Pintel snickered under his breath as he grabbed Ragetti by the sleeve of his coat and tugged him towards the stairs where their freedom was awaiting them. Pintel passed by a rack on the wall. There were only two riffles, probably used by the guards in an emergency, and about five flintlock pistols, all conveniently loaded. The elder pirate grabbed the pistols, thrust three in his belt and tossed the last two back to his comrade. He gazed at the riffles, tempted to bring them along, but changed his mind and deciding they'd be to inconvenient to carry.

He disappeared from few for a moment u the staircase. A sharp cry was heard followed by a loud bellow of a gun going off. Silence took over for a moment and the loud clatter of a sword on stone echoed out. "Hustle up, Rag-head!"

Ragetti bit his bottom lip, and started to follow up the stairs, yet he paused. The keys were held limply in his hand and his fingers closed around them tightly enough so that his knuckles turned white. Like his last remnant of assured freedom was about to be thrown away, he brought keys to his chest and took a large breath.

Twigg was looking down when the keys landed noisily beside his leg. He stared at them for a moment before looking up at Ragetti, who had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaning his forehead against the cell bars, a slightly concerned look on his face.

"I forgive y'eh," he said quietly, and slowly turned around, stalking after Pintel.

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edited the chapter to work out with the plot. Noticed a few mistakes. Anyways, Swimmign Above the Sharks is still going on, so if I don't update this for a while, go off and read that's tory. ; P

Thanks for the reviews.

All right then. Kindly leave a review, and stay tuned.


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